


To The Bone

by Cell0113



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Cannibalism, Halloween Costumes, Mental Anguish, Physical Trauma, Psychological Trauma, Transformation, Trauma, costume transformation, semi-graphic physical transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 16:06:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18502369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cell0113/pseuds/Cell0113
Summary: It was supposed to be just a fun night out with friends, but something has gone terribly, horrifically wrong...Please pay attention to the tags, this is NOT a happy story and the only reason it's not rated E is because the most graphic parts are very brief and mostly glossed over.





	To The Bone

**Author's Note:**

> So, I had an idea.
> 
> I used to write short stories of people going through transformation, usually werewolves cause they were My Jam in middle and high school, but I ended up falling out of practice and just didn't have the motivation for them for a very long time. This particular concept came about after idly browsing through some comics I had stored on my computer, and getting whacked upside the head with an idea for a costume transformation based on one of my favorite video games.
> 
> I freely admit this got a bit away from me, and turned out a LOT more graphic and violent than originally intended.
> 
> THIS IS YOUR FINAL WARNING. GORE, TRAUMA, AND IMPLIED CANNIBALISM ARE ALL INVOLVED. PLEASE CLOSE THIS TAB IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH BLOOD AND PHYSICAL TRAUMA.
> 
> Also, I have two modes for writing Papyrus; HIS BOASTING LOUD VOICE, And His Lowered Sort Of Calmer Voice. Sans has standard capitalization because my ingrained editor instincts flare up something awful when I try to keep him all lowercase.
> 
> That being said... Enjoy.

Don't look back.

Whatever you do, don't look back.

She learned that the hard way when everyone first scattered, when she had turned to check for her best friend and ended up with a first hand look at the terrible beastly THING that had pounced into their midst. It was barely visible, lit from behind by the street light half a block up, but it was big and strong and it picked up that jock in the Frankenstein get up like the dude was made of feathers and-

She looked away before she could see what happened, but it was hard to miss the ugly crunching, cracking sounds and the blood curdling scream that cut short all too quickly.

Running was the only option, get the hell out of there as fast as physically possible and maybe find shelter or help once the thing was assuredly left behind.  
For once, she was glad she'd changed up a few things about her chosen costume, opting for comfort over accuracy, since running in slippers was forever an effort in futility. Her galaxy print low tops weren't super awesome for traction, but at least they wouldn't go flinging off if she had to jump over something.  
Footsteps behind her, heavy, she felt her heart in her throat and she put on an extra turn of speed, leaping headlong over someone's garden wall. Her efforts seemed to amount to totally bupkiss, though, as the footsteps only seemed to get closer. She could hear her breathing picking up, whistling through her teeth as she tried to move faster.

Something grasped her shoulder, and it was only her breathlessness that kept her from screaming at the contact as she found her momentum abruptly cut short and her body lurching back as the grip on her shoulder heaved her off balance.  
No thought, just panicked self preservation, and she lashed out with elbows and knees, flailing to get loose, until the sound of a familiar voice broke through her fear haze.

"-e, it's me! Stop! It's me!"

Vision swimming, it took a moment to focus on the masked face above her, and she shuddered as the panicked tension eased from her body.

"God-fucking-DAMN it, Jay, you scared the hell outta me!"

The taller girl took a half step back, red gloved hands up in a placating gesture.

"Sorry, sorry! I just- You were running so fast and I got scared and did you see that thing it was HUGE-!"

It was difficult to tell with a full face mask on, but the anxious finger twiddling was more than a little familiar. She reached out before her friend could worry herself into a panic attack, taking hold of the younger girl's hands in both her own.

"Hey, hey, Jay, it's okay, remember to breathe, okay?"

The sound of a deep breath being inhaled, held, and then released filtered through the fabric and paper mache, and the worst of the anxious fidgeting toned down. Another breath, and they were simply holding hands, half hidden between the garden wall and a spindly maple tree missing most of its leaves.  
It was dark enough that they could barely see each other, let alone anything else, but it was a comfort after-  
Yeah.

"Better?"  
"Y-yeah. Yeah, better."  
"Think you can keep up with me if I go running again?"

She managed a small smile, her face paint making the motion feel bigger than it was.

"Cause I was gettin' kinda bone-ly all by myself."

There was a somewhat muffled scoffing noise, and she felt her smile widen, knowing the look that was no doubt being hidden under that cartoony skeleton mask. Game anniversary aside, their costume choices really were spot on this year.  
After all, it was rare to discover a character who loved puns as much as she did, and the fact that he came with a built in straight man in the form of his brother was icing on the proverbial cake.

"Uuuugh, now is NOT the time, Brother."  
"Aw, c'mon, you're totally smiling."  
"I am and I hate it."

Stifling a semi-hysterical giggle, she gave her friend's hands a gentle squeeze, feeling a slightly more... Enthusiastic squeeze back before moving to peek out around the tree.

"Okay. I don't see anything, I think we're good to move."

With utmost care, she edged out towards the sidewalk, glad for the deep cobalt of her jacket as it helped her blend into the shadows. Still nothing...  
A quick look around, and she found a street sign she recognized.

"Right. We're not far from Marko's mom's place, we can go and get some shelter there. You still have your phone?"  
"Yeah, why? Don't you have yours?"  
"...Landon was borrowing it to check Facebook."  
"Oh."  
"Yeah."

They held a moment of silence for the jock, his life as well as his ringing scream cut dreadfully short.

"C'mon."

Edging out onto the sidewalk, hand in hand, she was taking another look around when she caught something glinting in the bushes across the street. It almost looked like glass catching the light from someone's landscaping, but it was roughly seven feet off the ground...  
Her breathing stuttered as realization hit, and she swallowed, feeling her heart in her throat all over again.

"...Jay?"  
"Yeah?"  
"When I tell you to run, you run, okay?"  
"What-?"

The glint flickered, yellow and glossy and there were pinprick pupils just barely visible as the bushes rustled from the movement of something large and there was no time-!

"RUN!"

She yanked her friend into motion, hauling the younger girl along and then pulling her forward to take the lead, shoving her when she tried to slow. The thing snarled, a sound so loud and terrible she felt it shaking her to her core like an earthquake made of noise, and she felt more than heard its heavy footsteps as it gave chase.

Oh stars, it was fast!  
Why was it fast?!!

There was no time to ponder. The pair of them bolted down the street, the creature hot on their heels as they fled in the hopes of salvation.

Jay was taller, long limbed and in better shape, so it was only a matter of time before she started to pull ahead. She couldn't blame the younger girl for managing to leap over a recycling bin without having to break stride while she had to scramble around, officially falling behind in only a few sparse seconds. Better that at least one of them escape, than both of them fall victim to whatever beast this was.

Still, when that lengthy red scarf vanished from sight around the corner of someone's garage, she felt a pit of dread open up in her guts. Landon was dead, she was very probably going to die, and she doubted their pursuer was going to stop at her for the night.  
Little gods, what she wouldn't give for a means to fight back!  
She couldn't let this- this- THING hurt anyone else!

A rumbling snarl, and the breath was driven from her body in a pathetic wheeze as a massive weight slammed into her from behind, plowing her smaller body into and through somebody's white wood fence. Splinters and chips of paint caught on her fingerless gloves and her hood, wet grass smearing green stains on the material of her skeleton patterned leggings as the enormous beast crushed her against the ground like an oversized chew toy.  
Wheezing for breath, she tried to lash out, flailing and kicking as best she could, and yelped in surprise when one of her fists were caught in a meaty callused palm big enough that it engulfed her whole hand and part of her forearm. What the- It had hands?!

She didn't get much of a chance to fully absorb the realization, as she found herself loomed over by the enormous bulk of her attacker, the beast barely visible in the feeble light of the moon and the remains of Halloween decorations. It leaned in close, and she almost choked as its breath washed over her, hot and cloying with the acrid scent of old and new blood mixed with straight up halitosis.  
The smell made her stomach roil with nausea, and she gagged, barely managing to choke down bile.

"Ugh, ever hear of a toothbrush?!"

The beast's snarling took on an extra edge, and she realized with a sinking feeling that she'd managed to voice her thoughts aloud. And it had understood her.

"Oh boy."

Its grip on her arm tightened, and she squirmed as it began to pull, twisting her body until her whole spine was jangling with twinges of pain that was soon joined by her shoulder, elbow and wrist. She flailed, trying to kick and lash out, but the pain quickly grew to the point where she couldn't really do anything more than twitch, her free hand clutching at the grass hard enough to start tearing up chunks.  
Barely aware beyond the pain and fear, she only just noticed a weird tingling sensation, sort of like a gentle pressure but less so, in the general vicinity of her breastbone.  
Something popped, and her vision whited out, a hoarse, breathless sound that was almost a scream wrenched from somewhere deep in her chest.

It was going to rip her arm off-!!

A small, bright sound pierced the white noise of agony, strangely familiar, but the familiarity fell short in importance when the beast abruptly released her arm with a vicious snarl. Vision swimming, she didn't bother looking to see what had happened, only did what she could to roll away as the thing reeled back.  
She scrambled away in the wet grass, her dislocated arm dragging beside her, until she found a waylaid pumpkin decoration, using it to haul herself upright before stumbling in the vague direction of where she hoped Jay had gone.  
Angel Above, she hoped Jay was okay...

There was a low rumbling growl from behind, and without thinking, she lurched to the side, throwing her good arm out towards the noise as though throwing an object towards the threat. She heard that sound again, bright and brief, and felt her eyes widen as something white appeared out of thin air and rocketed towards the dark shape of the beast.  
Whatever it was, it hit home and it hit hard, striking the thing dead center in the vague area of its chest. The beast roared in pain and rage as the object glowed faintly, revealing grungy dark fur streaked with blood, and she realized with a start that the object looked sort of like a femur bone.

But how-?

The creature came barreling towards her once again, and there was no time to think, only act, and the motions came like well honed instinct.  
Hand up, hand out, trip backwards out of the way of a bear-like swipe, white bones manifesting from seemingly random directions to skewer into the beast, tripping it up wherever possible. Head buzzing with pain and fear, the notion of wondering why pounded like a migraine but there was no time.  
White bones, dodge, more bones, stumble, back up back up back UP-!

Weight eased, something coming loose, and it was a little easier to move, a little less painful, and the bones came quicker as steps became firmer. The beast roared, sounding even angrier than before, and it charged, standing upright to slash and claw.  
Dodge, dodge, duck, bones up, bones down.  
If they didn't dissipate after a few moments, the creature would have looked like a pincushion by the third volley.

Shake loose the weight, wet and clinging, move faster. Have to move-!

Something hit the concrete with a gross splat, no time to look as the creature lashed out again, its motions erratic, almost frantic. Like it was trying to get a hit in before something happened...

Dodge, duck, dodge, dodge, bones, bones, duck.  
Slam into the side of the garage, yelp when that dislocated shoulder popped back into place, but two hands are better than one. Big long heavy bone, hold it firm in both hands, wait wait _SWING NOW-!_

The beast squealed as heavy solid bone slammed full bore into its face, sending it stumbling away and crashing into a couple of trash bins. It was down, time to run!

The heavy bone still in hand, he bolted as fast as his feet could carry him, panting hoarsely as he clawed his way up over someone's back fence. Coming down the other side was almost a disaster, but he managed to land alright, stumbling only a little.  
Everything felt weird, too light and not light enough in the same breath, but adrenaline shoved the concern to the side in favor of fleeing towards the hope of safety. Something was dripping down his face, wet and warm, but he couldn't let himself think, there was no time-!

Almost two blocks passed in a blur of decomposing fall foliage and darkened windows before the beast's angry bellow was heard, and he picked up the pace, running as fast as his aching feet were able.

Then he heard something.

It was quiet, soft, a sound anyone else would have heard and dismissed. But he knew that sound, the voice that made it, and he nearly tripped over himself whipping around in search of the source.  
No no nononono he was supposed to be safe, he went ahead-!

Another breathless little noise, and he caught a flash of distinctive red, the end of a familiar scarf caught on the thorns of a dried out blackberry bush. Without hesitation, he bolted for it, slipping and sliding through the leaves wet with something that smelled like he didn't want to know.  
Distinctive red boots came into view, and he felt a surge of both relief and concern as he came around the gnarled mess of brambles.

"Pap-!"

His breathless exclamation died on his mandible when he finally caught sight of his younger brother.  
What had once been pristine white armor was streaked with oozing dark gore, blue jean shorts soaked through a sickly almost black, even the red leather of his gloves and boots had not been spared, blotched with ugly dark stains. There were large clumps of glistening red matter leaching into the leaves and soil, grossly reminiscent in appearance to ground beef.

Pinprick eyelights flickered up, brightening a moment before returning to near invisible points.

"SssaaAaANS...?"

He found himself unable to respond for a moment, transfixed by the terrible sight of red flesh peeling away from his baby bro's lower jaw, dangling a bit before coming loose and impacting the stained white surface of the chest piece of the costume. It slid about half an inch before a small choked sob jerked his attention around.

The bone in his hands vanished into dust as he scrambled forward, carefully avoiding as much carnage as he could before crouching in front of his brother. He pointedly ignored the wet squelching noise the motion caused, and forced himself not to look anywhere but his brother's gore streaked face.

"Yeah, it's me, Pap, I'm here."

Ugh, his voice sounded even hoarser than usual. No thanks to that nasty creature trying to rip his arm off...

"I- I'M SsCArED SAns..."

Something splattered on the ground, wet and heavy. Papyrus flinched, closing his sockets for a split second. An orange tinted tear slipped free.

"WhAat'S w-WrONg wIth us...?"

He swallowed, struggling to ignore the sticky wet weight clinging to his bones under his clothes even as he reached for one of his brother's hands. There was a squelch from something inside the glove, but he didn't let go, and Papyrus clung back with desperate strength.

"I dunno, bro, I dunno. But that thing is still out there. We gotta move. You think you're okay t'move...?"

There was a breath of silence, then he felt that desperate grip tighten minutely before his baby bro managed a nod.

"Okay. Count of three, let's get you upright, okay?"

Another little nod, and he gave his brother's hand a firm squeeze before he moved to stand himself. He felt something stick, then peel up and away with a sound like wet paper towel being torn. He forced himself not to look down, even as Papyrus' eyelights flickered in the direction of the noise.

If he looked, he'd have to acknowledge it, and if he acknowledged it, he would have to process it and if he processed it, everything was going to be ten times more horrible than it already was.  
He could not, not right now.  
Not until his brother was safe.

It didn't take too much effort to get Papyrus upright, though his knees wobbled a bit and they both did everything they could to ignore the strange sloshy sort of noises coming from inside his boots when he took a step. Red seemed to drip and ooze from damn near everywhere, the only thing not totally ruined that long scarf and that was cause it had gotten caught on the blackberries out of harm's way. He doubted he looked any better...

Shaking his head (don't think about the wetness sliding), he took his brother by the hand and edged towards the sidewalk, peeking out of hiding for the second time that night.

The creature was a ways away, far enough that it was more of a vague shape than anything else, and it seemed to be distracted by something it had found on the ground. With any luck, they could quietly walk away another block or so and then make a break for it. The thing was fast, but it wasn't THAT fast.

He turned to Papyrus, lifting a single finger before his mouth in a gesture of silence, then slowly padded out onto the sidewalk, carefully avoiding leaves and other debris. The creature didn't even bother to look up, either not hearing or too distracted to care. Whatever it was, it was as good a time as any to move.

Gently nudging his brother to take the lead, he summoned another bone staff, careful to hide its glow against his dark clothes as he brought up the rear. It wasn't much in the grand scheme of things, but Papyrus was far too rattled to try summoning an attack and sustaining one sturdy attack was a lot less draining than trying to put together a bullet pattern on the fly.  
Besides, he'd walloped it once, he'd wallop it again if needed.

Once away from the slick leaves, it was quicker, quieter going, and they made it almost a whole half block before the beast finally noticed them. The snarling bellow it gave rattled his bones from the sheer ferocity of it, and he only had to give his brother a look before they were both running full tilt.

It was fast.  
Faster than he'd anticipated.

He felt the vibrations of its heavy stride before anything else, and he yelled something to Papyrus, he wasn't sure what, but it didn't matter because the thing was swiping at him and some six inch long claws were tearing through his jacket. He stumbled from the force of the blow, and screamed as he was tackled to the ground.

And didn't stop screaming, as he proceeded to use his bone staff to pummel any part of the creature he could reach, flailing and kicking and cursing as the thing clawed at him, dragging him along the sidewalk until it was looming over him. It bared its teeth at him in a sickening parody of a grin, all fangs and bloodied saliva, and he tried to smack it in the face again, but it saw the move coming and snapped at his hands, making him jerk back so fast the staff splintered across the concrete on impact.  
He still tried to fight back, beating his fists and feet on anything he could reach, but he was so much weaker without a weapon the beast could not have cared less.

It ignored his screaming, his cursing, and ripped open the front of his shirt like a kid peeling open a candy wrapper.

He was vaguely aware that he started to hyperventilate, his bones rattling as panic set in, but he had no thought to such small things when he found himself staring down at his own body and the grotesque horror that had lain hidden behind thin cotton.

Glistening wetly in the low light, a thin layer of delicate adipose tissue clung inside his ribcage and stretched down to his pelvis, a fragile translucent container for a number of organs that pulsed with life. Pale pink and deep burgundy, veins of purple blue and arteries pumping brilliant red. Nausea choked his voice, and he gagged as he witnessed his stomach clench, an audible sloshing noise coming from the muscle contraction.  
Stomach, kidneys, liver, spleen, intestines, all of it laid out like some sick parody of a medical education tool.

He glimpsed long yellowed fangs, claws caked in gore, and he was screaming all over again, voice pitched in absolute terror as the beast ripped him open to begin the feast.  
Later, he would realize there was no actual pain in the attack, no nerves to disturb and no connections to severe, but that did nothing for his panic-stricken mind and the subconscious awareness of so much being so very wrong. All he knew that those organs were his, and the beast was eating them while they were still INSIDE him.

Teeth caught on his floating ribs, claws scraped on his spine, and he screamed and screamed and screamed, a high pitched drawn out screech like a raspier version of a kettle whistle as he watched his kidneys get snapped up and swallowed down like a couple of juicy pieces of fruit. The thing had taken a huge snapping bite out of his intestines when he heard a swelling buzzing sort of sound, like a florescent light dying but deeper, and then the night shadows were shredded open by an intense blue-white light.

It slammed into the beast with the force of an oncoming freight train, throwing it off of him like a puppy getting kicked by a horse, and he smelled burning flesh and hair before the light died with a faint sizzling.

“ATTEMPT TO BRING HARM TO MY BROTHER ONCE MORE, AND YOU WILL SUFFER FAR GREATER DAMAGE, BEAST.”

He had never heard his little brother’s voice so cold, so empty of emotion, but it was something to ponder at a later date when his mind wasn’t half unraveled by terror. He could hear the beast as well, growling and whining in equal measure, and he felt a small note of satisfaction at it finally getting retribution for its cruelty. A part of him wondered how many had died to this savage beast tonight, how many it had devoured.  
One at the very least, and however many parts he’d accidentally left behind in some kind of morbid meat trail.

Oh Angel Above, he was going to be sick-!

A dry heave at first, then he was being rolled onto his side and he felt the remains of organs still being held in place in his torso flop against his ribs and pelvis and he was upchucking a cascade of dust and magic that looked not a little like tapioca pudding, milky white and congealed in odd lumps he didn’t want to think about. He coughed, gagged, and threw up a little more as a chunk of liver splatted on the concrete.

So wrong, it felt so wrong-!

The taste of dust and bile burning in his mouth, he rolled over onto his front and heaved himself up onto all fours, shaking all over, before sitting up. He stared down at himself, shuddered like a man having a seizure, then scrambled to dig the flesh out of him. It was wrong, it was _wrong_ , it didn’t _go_ there, _it was WRONG-!_

Clawing at his own insides flung bits and pieces every which way, but he couldn’t bring himself to care, not even when he stripped off what remained of his shirt and coat and hoodie in one frantic motion that flung the partially destroyed combo right into somebody’s sprinkler. Red clung to EVERYTHING, and he clawed at it, tore it out, clumps and strips and heaps. He threw up again when he yanked off his shoes and a sheath of flesh sloughed off his bones like a set of grotesque knee high socks.  
By the time he was done, he was bare but for his shorts, white bones stained with so much gore he feared it would permanently discolor him.

Trembling, he clutched at his own arm bones, dragging his phalanges over the semi-porous surface to scrape off any lingering bits. A glance up found his brother, kneeling on the concrete wearing an expression so lost and tired and scared he could feel in the depths of his SOUL, a singularly massive Gaster Blaster budged up against his side like an oversized dog. Orange tinted tears left clean streaks striped down his brother’s face, and he knew from the way his sockets burned that he had tears of his own trickling down his cheekbones.

A distant snarl, and the Gaster Blaster hissed, bright orange eye rings flaring with power.

“WE SHOULD BE GOING, BROTHER, BEFORE THE BEAST GETS IDEAS.”

Marko’s mom’s house.  
Shelter.  
Safety.  
Right.

He swallowed, tasting bitter bile in the back of throat, and nodded. Then he paused, brows furrowing as he looked over his brother, then himself, before glancing over to the sprinkler his coat had flopped over.

“...we should probably clean up a bit first...”

The beast lingered too close for them to chance more than a cursory rinse in the cold hose water, but it was better than nothing. He donated his ruined t-shirt to the cause, ripping the once-white cotton into rags to scrub off the worst of it. As the redness dripped off, leaving white bone behind, he almost felt like crying again. Not a stain in sight, just ruined clothes and remnants of flesh that marked the grass in dark smears.  
He could only hope the homeowner wouldn’t go wandering their property when morning came. Once everything dried, it wouldn’t be nearly so bad, but...

Well.

It was Papyrus’ turn to throw up when he got to pulling off his boots and they discovered a nauseating slurry of red matter and ooze that spilled gelatinous across the ground. If they weren’t his only footwear at the moment, he doubted his brother would ever put the boots back on. Hell, he knew the moment he was able, he was burning his hoodie.  
The shearling lining was horrific to look at.

Sopping wet and shivering, the Gaster Blaster watching their backs, they leaned on one another for support as they made their way up the sidewalk in the direction of what they hoped would be some kind of safety. Without fear fueled adrenaline powering them onwards, they were both feeling the depths of their exhaustion, joints sore and limbs aching.  
His ribs were never going to be the same after having been slammed to the ground.

The distance was only a few blocks, but by the time they reached the familiar battered gate, putting one foot in front of the other was the hardest thing he had ever done. Even Papyrus was visibly flagging, dragging his booted feet up the cracked front walk and slumping tiredly against the miraculously still material Gaster Blaster.

Angel Above, but his little bro was amazing...

Letting Papyrus slump down on the porch steps, back supported by the thankfully sturdy railing, he stumbled as he crossed the short distance to the door. Everything was aching and numb all at the same time, his skull pounding, it took more effort than he cared to admit to actually knock on the door. He slumped there, barely enough energy to lift his hand and let it thump on the solid wood, until he heard shuffling from the other side followed by a muffled but familiar voice.

Marko was away at college still, but he and his mom were practically family. With any luck, she’d be willing to put them up for the night, just for now, until they could muster the energy and wherewithal to get themselves home...

He heard the turn of the deadlock, and only just managed to push off from the door in time, staggering a little as he had to reorient himself to standing on his own once more. The door swung inwards to reveal an older woman in a sleep shirt and lounge pants, looking disgruntled, and he barely managed to summon an apologetic smile.

“H-Hey, Auntie.”

She was staring, eyes wide, and he swallowed, shuffling his feet. They really must look awful if she was just staring...

“Sorry ‘bout the late call, but -uh- we were out with the guys and there was this b-beast and it was chasing us and- and-”

He could feel his sockets burning, tears gathering as his bones started to rattle, even as he tried to breath through the dawning horror. Angel Above, keep it together-!

“We g-got away, but it attacked me and Pap’s hurt and it a-ate Landon-!”

He couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, spiralling as the full realization at last struck home, and he heard Papyrus move, trying to get up even though he had to be hurting just as much, he’d been running too. Sure, he’d managed to get ahead but the beast was still out there and oh stars what if it followed them-!

Warm hands caught his own cold, trembling metacarpals, and he could feel familiar calluses and small scars and it was too much, too gentle, too kind. Words failed in a choked breathless sound that made his chest ache, and he felt more than heard the sleep-roughened tones of their Auntie’s voice, soothing even as she struggled for calm. The remnants of his strength gave out entirely when she shifted her grip to pull him into a hug, and he slumped limply into the embrace, phalanges finding purchase in the thin sleep shirt and gripping on tight as he dissolved into voiceless sobbing.

Nothing made sense, everything hurt, he just wanted it all to go away, go away and let him rest, all he wanted was a little time to rest, just a little-!

Apparently he said as much aloud, the comforting embrace tightening before he vaguely heard voices and he was gently transferred from one set of arms to another just as if not more familiar before being scooped off his feet. He huddled up in as small a ball he could manage, trembling and crying even as he slumped against the smooth surface of his brother’s costume chest armor. More voices, meaning lost in the white noise buzzing in his skull, and then there was movement as he was carried over the threshold, safe in his brother’s arms.

He remained in that haze, lost outside his own body and trapped in the buzzing of his own mind, feeling and hearing everything like it was happening to somebody else, as his brother followed their Auntie through the house. They were talking in low tones, keeping quiet as best they could, and he didn’t have the awareness to wonder why.  
Footsteps changed tone as a door opened, a light flicked on, more talking. It seemed like everything was just a haze, fuzzy shapes and indistinct sounds lost in white noise...

The feeling of warm liquid sloshing against his tibia and fibula slammed him back into his body, and he flailed, vaguely aware of a pitched keening admit the splashes.

“-ANS, SANS! IT’S ALRIGHT, BROTHER, IT’S JUST A BATH, LOOK.”

Large gloved hands caught his own, and he shuddered as gentle pressure lowered his hands into the warm liquid, blinking rapidly before managing to focus. He stared for a long moment at his own hands, clearly visible through the clear steaming fluid, and it finally clicked that they were in a bathroom, halfway to climbing into a bathtub filled with clean warm water. Papyrus had him tucked up against his chest, leg bones swung up over hip bones so he could lean forward far enough.  
Both of them were fully clothed, even their shoes, and he couldn’t bring himself to wonder why. He didn’t really want to bother with stripping down again...

“AUNTIE SAID THE WATER WOULD WARM YOU UP BETTER. SHE'S MAKING HOT COCOA FOR WHEN WE'RE DONE.”

With his senses no longer on strike and the adrenaline long gone, he could fully appreciate just how blasted COLD he felt. Wet clothing combined with midnight autumn weather made for a damn near perfect recipe for hypothermia. Heck, he could feel Papyrus was shivering as well, and he ran around in nothing but shorts and leggings in the snow.

Not trusting his voice, he made himself relax in his brother's grasp and gave a small nod of acceptance. Papyrus eased them both into the bath, warm water sloshing a bit over the sides from how full it was, and he couldn't hold back a soft hiss at his bones prickling from the temperature change. The feeling eased after only a few moments, and he sighed as he leaned back against his brother, focusing on the warmth slowly but surely seeping down to his SOUL. He knew the heat would be helping loosen leftover grit and filth from their clothing, and he also knew he wasn't stable enough mentally to be able to witness the water clouding without possibly horrendous consequences.

As it was, they lay reclined together in the water until his coccyx started to go numb and the water began to cool. An unpleasant grittiness had accumulated on the bottom of the bath as well, and when Papyrus moved to unplug the drain, the motion made a scratchy noise. Another couple minutes, and he allowed himself to be dragged upright, the pair of them leaning on one another for support as the shower was turned on, rinsing down both themselves and the tub. Standing there in the spray, he felt acutely aware of the weight of his soaking wet clothing, the way his shoes squelched, and he started stripping down before he was even fully aware he'd made the decision. Shoes first, let the water get in between his metatarsals, then he was shucking out of his jacket and hoodie, dropping them with a heavy wet plap noise. He hesitated on his shorts, uncertain, but he wanted to be clean damnit wanted the gross feeling gone and his body as far from how the beast had found him as possible.

And then he was bare under the shower's heated spray, faintly aware that his brother had followed his example and that they were standing in a wet pile of ruined costume and clothing. It felt so good to just stand there, secure in the knowledge that there was nothing on him, nothing hidden, nothing but his own bare bones and the water.

It took him bit to pull together enough will to feel able to do anything beyond stand there, and he made a mental note to thank Papyrus for being so patient with him. His brother was so amazingly precious and kind and thoughtful...

They borrowed some body wash and a couple loofahs, helping each other scrub down until their bodies felt properly cleansed and the water had started to run cold. Auntie had apparently snuck in while they were busy, since there were dryer fresh oversized towels waiting for them on the counter, along with some worn out but comfortable clothes that had probably been on their way to Good Will.

Dry and clean and warm, snuggled into a sweater that was a size too big and sweatpants worn so thin they were softer than a cloud, he followed Papyrus out of the bathroom at a slow shuffle with the slightly damp towel wrapped around his shoulders. Marko's mom was nowhere to be found, but she'd left a note on the table apologizing for not being to wait up for them and two covered mugs. The cocoa wasn't piping hot anymore, but it was warm enough to find comfort in, soothing the last of his anxiety.

He and Papyrus sat together in silence for several moments, chairs scooted close enough for them to lean on one another as they nursed their mugs of cocoa. It felt a little weird to drink at first, his jaw aching from the effort it took to part his teeth enough, but the delicious chocolate flavor was well worth it, warm and soothing in a way he felt all the way to his SOUL. From the way Papyrus sighed in between sips, he felt the same way. Before long, all that was left was a film on the inside of the ceramic mugs and a pleasant warmth that emanated from their bones.

Leaning up against his brother, he took a deep breath, holding it a moment before letting it out in a low tired sigh.

“...I don't think I can sleep. M tired, but-”  
“I Know, Brother, I Know.”

A few moments of silence.

“...wanna watch TV?”

A shrug was the reply, and he took it for acceptance, sitting up before grabbing both mugs and heading for the kitchen.

“Go ahead an’ get settled, bro, I'll get these for Auntie.”

He heard his brother stand, bare boned feet clicking on the linoleum floor, and as he set the mugs in the sink, he listened to the quiet sounds of Papyrus moving about the dining area, neatening everything up the way he always did, before there was the soft plumph noise of the old couch being sat on. They were familiar, reassuring sounds he found comfort in, and he took a deep breath before turning on the faucet.  
It only took a couple moments before the mugs were suitably tended to, set aside on the drying rack to drip, and he idly dried his hands on the towel still draped around his shoulders as he headed back out to meet his brother.

Papyrus had wedged himself into a corner of the couch, legs tucked up again his chest with his head resting on his knees while he idly poked at the remote he'd rested on his bare feet. He looked up at hearing his footsteps, and though he tried to summon up a smile, it was all too obvious how wrung out he was. It had been a very long time since he'd seen his younger brother look so exhausted...

“That Space Drama Movie You Like Is On If You Feel Like Watching.”  
“Yeah? Which one, Star Wars'r Galaxy Quest?”  
“Uh, That Parody One With The Yogurt Person?”  
“Ah, Space Balls, gotcha. Isn't that one kinda rude, though?”

The younger skeleton shrugged, relaxing a bit more comfortably against the arm of the couch while he clambered up over the back, dragging the knitted afghan down with him to drape over both their legs when Papyrus finally let himself stretch out.

“Better Than The News. Every Channel Keeps Talking About Some Kind Of Magic Virus Thing...”

Papyrus fidgeted with the end of the blanket, his gaze not really focused anywhere as he looked off over towards the wall.

“It's Probably Important, But I Don't Want To Hear It.”

Scooting closer, he reached over and pulled his younger sibling into a hug, not really caring about the difference in height.

“It's okay, Pap, nothing's wrong with leaving something alone til you feel up to dealing with it. It's been one hell of a night...”

A sigh, and Papyrus let himself be coddled, half curling into the warm embrace and pulling the afghan up over them both.

They lay there together, curled into one another and insulated from the world at large by the combination of warm clothes and the soft murmur of the television, until exhaustion finally proved stronger than the trauma they had endured. He felt Papyrus slump against him, sockets easing closed with one hand clinging to his aching ribs, and he shifted only slightly, just enough to allow his younger brother to rest against him more comfortably.  
Part of him wanted to join his sibling, his sockets already drifting to half mast, but he knew sleep would not come, fickle mistress that it was. The darkness behind his own lids flashed with red every time they fell too far closed, and he knew without a doubt that a nightmare would take him the moment he allowed sleep to take him.

Better to stay awake, to hold his brother close and safe, listening to the quiet rhythmic thrum of his magic as it ebbed and flowed, than let terror take him in the darkness. He would deal with everything else tomorrow, when the sun was up and the beast was gone, and the world would come crashing down with all its truth.

Tomorrow, just until tomorrow...


End file.
